Working Girl
by Polly
Summary: Cordelia's found herself a little sideline but it's not what you think. Unfortunately for her, it IS what Angel thinks... AC friendship fic
1. Chapter 1

  
Title: Working Girl  
Author: Polly  
Summary: Cordelia's got a little sideline going, but it's not what you might think. Unfortunately however, it's what Angel thinks.  
Feedback: I may be signing my own death warrant, but yes please.  
  
Author's Note: This is an A/C friendship only fic as they're the types I love - but it's a close, familial type of friendship. Also this is set in the first season, post 'Hero' as the Darla-Return episodes of Season 2 kind of bored me after a while (sorry Darla fans).  
  
***  
  
It was a good job he didn't by necessity, have to actually use his lungs. Sure it was habit and habits   
were hard to break especially bad ones but almost by definition, they weren't usually essential to life.   
As he pushed through the smoke infested, drug-ridden crowd of seedy women and disgusting perverted old men, Angel was actually thankful for that small mercy. As it was he could barely comprehend how anyone could stand to stay in this place for more than sixty seconds, let alone frequent it or work there.   
  
Ignoring the scantly clad waitress who asked him for drink orders, he popped himself down in a side booth and pondered two more interesting conundrums. Firstly: why the Hell had Willie insisted they meet at this bar for whatever information he had to give Angel; and secondly why had he even let his contact call the shots? Normally Angel was the one with the upper hand and Willie danced to his tune. But not this time, he pondered.   
  
A spotlight suddenly lit the stage. Angel barely glanced up. There was an announcement, music started up and a leggy brunette walked on stage to the accompaniment of much cheering and whistling from the crowd. Angel quickly looked away again. Sure, in his youth this sort of place might have fascinated him, but now it was just an embarrassment - perhaps because it reminded him of a part of himself he would rather forget, he pondered. Irritably he glanced down at his watch though it was hard to read anything in the red lighting. Willie was definitely late though - that much he knew for sure. Well that was it then! he decided in a wave of annoyance - that was the last time he acceded to any of Willie's requests.   
  
'So why don't you just leave right now?' a voice piped up in his head. He almost frowned at it. The girl on stage was slowly losing her articles of clothing - he could see them falling to the floor from the corner of his eye and, try as he might, he couldn't stop them from being a distraction to his thoughts.   
'Ah hell', he admitted to himself with a gruff sigh. He was here because he was simply curious - Willie had never approached him with an actual volunteer of information before and Angel simply had to know what he thought was so damned important. That had to be the only reason why he was still hanging around in this God-awful joint.   
  
"Get you a drink?" a voice asked him jolting him out of his thoughts. He glanced up again to the same waitress who had asked him when he first walked in. "Persistent aren't you?" he asked wryly.   
"Look buddy - I'm just working my tables. You can take it or leave it, but it looks like you ain't watching the show, so I figure the least you coulda come here for was a drink!"  
"Fine. Give me a beer - any one," he added. She was probably right anyway - it would make him feel a little less conspicuous until Willie arrived.   
  
Presently she came back and dumped the glass on the table in front of him. "Five bucks," she informed him, curtly. Angel frowned. The prices in here were ridiculous but he didn't mind - he'd get a certain tardy demon to reimburse him when he eventually arrived. He pulled out his wallet and handed the note to the girl who glanced at it briefly before tucking it safely away. "Heavy on the tips, aren't you?" she asked. He smiled at her. "What I lack in tips, you more than make up for in charms." One sour look later and she whisked herself away and on to more generous and personable clientele.   
  
The spotlight faded and enthusiastic applause went up throughout the room. The girl on the stage gathered up the rest of her clothes and hurried off the stage looking almost embarrassed. The waitress grinned and wove her way over to the girl. She looked up and waved back, a shy smile creeping over her face. "Hi Mandy," she greeted.  
"Hey yourself. Not bad today," she said, indicating the stage behind them. "You're really getting the hang of this. Two weeks ago I thought you'd die from stage fright!"  
"Nah - not me," she claimed boldly, waving a dismissive hand, "Me - I'm a performer."  
"Gonna be an actress, huh?" Mandy grinned. "Honey - you have no idea how many pretties come in here every week with Hollywood on the brain. Take my advice and get over it quick."  
"You'll see, Mandy! Oh hell - time's ticking. I'm meant to be on tables now."  
"Girl, you're lucky you haven't done the full number yet - you'll never know what 'pushed for time' means until you gotta do a full costume change in two minutes. And you know what Leroy's like for keeping time."  
"Don't I just." She glanced behind her suddenly, distractedly looking for someone or something.   
Mandy wasn't slow to pick up on this. "Everything OK?"  
"What? Oh, yeah fine. Look are you sure my suit's ok for serving drinks?" She cast an appraising eye over the form-fitting black and red bodice, large diamond shapes cut out of the centre front and back. It looked more like bra and panties to her but she guessed that technically it wasn't so that was ok.   
"You look fine." The girl smiled then turned to leave. Just as she did so, Mandy called out after her:  
"Hey, Cordelia? Watch out for that broody guy in the front booth - moody guy and bad tipper. Other than that he's pretty cute."  
  
Cordelia grinned confidently. "I am way capable of coping with moody and brooding - trust me on this one. Which booth did you say he was?" Mandy pointed a lace-gloved hand and Cordelia followed her gaze into the smoky room. There was a tall figure hunched over his drink - couldn't make out his face but he didn't look bad. "I can handle him. You want to swap tables? I'll take your half if you want?"  
"Sure thing, girl - it's your tips at stake tonight. See ya around Cordy." With one last wave, Mandy sauntered off to the bar.  
  
Tugging her costume down at the back one last time, Cordy made her way over to her tables eyes always darting about the room, watching and alert. Outwardly however, she kept a seductive smile plastered over her face and tried to ignore the stray hands that snaked their way to her ass. "Hi", she greeted one guy slouched at a table. "You need a drink?" He reached out to her and grabbed a hold of her arm, pulling her down onto his lap. She smiled back at him. "Can I take that as a 'yes'?" she purred. The guy was more than a little drunk as it was. Whatever it was he wanted to order was obviously not very clear to him. Cordy rolled her eyes and gently began to ease herself off his lap. As she did so, her gaze cast about the booths.   
  
Then it came to rest on one particular guy. "Oh shit!"  
"Say what?" the guy underneath her slurred. She ignored him, trying to climb off from him but finding that he had snaked an arm around her waist.  
In his booth, Angel looked up sharply. There was suddenly a very familiar presence in the room - a feeling, a sound, even a smell. He felt as if he should be able to place it immediately. It wasn't Willie, he decided after only a moment's hesitation. He stood carefully and scanned the occupants of the bar. Nothing stood out at once - greasy, packing guys and cheap girls.   
  
In a gut wrenching flash, his non-existent breath caught in his throat.  
  
Never in his lifetime, would he have suspected that one of those cheap girls would be... 'No!', he thought, ' It just couldn't be.... I mean - she wouldn't!!' Sure enough though, on closer inspection, it was definitely Cordelia. His little Cordelia - in leather underwear nestled in some guy's lap. With a sickening sensation, it dawned on him that she had been the damned girl on stage too. Plus, she had seen him, and if anything convinced him that this wasn't just her doppelganger, it was the way she struggled to get off the drunk and then proceed to duck and dive her way throughout the crowd.   
  
"Oh shit, shit, shit!" she muttered as she wove through the customers. What the Hell was he doing here? He was going to ruin everything. If she could just get to the staff room, she thought - there was a lock on the door there - not that that would hold him for long.  
Angel swore to himself as he pushed men out of the way. He'd been shocked when he'd first laid eyes on her, but now his feelings had changed: he was absolutely furious - dangerously so, in fact.   
  
Cordelia made it through the crowd and was almost at the staff room door when she jumped at the figure in front of her that had literally come out of no where.   
  
"Jesus Angel!" she exclaimed, angrily. "Give a girl a heart attack why don't you?" She met his stony gaze for only a second before she looked away. Angel wasn't in the mood for her sarcasm. He grabbed a hold of her arm and began pulling her with him.  
"Where's your coat?" he asked tightly.  
"What?!" she demanded. "Angel, I'm working! I can't go any where."  
"Like Hell, you can't!" he shot back. "New job? This is the new job you were talking about? I knew actresses in this city wind up in places like these but I never thought...". He trailed off and shook his head, still dragging her towards the exit. "I should have kept a closer watch," he muttered.  
"Do you have a jacket or not?" he asked again.  
"I'm not leaving," she repeated firmly. For one brief moment Angel released her arm, only to whip off his own long coat and wrap it around his teenaged Seer.   
"Angel!" she protested, "I told you..."  
"And I told you! You are leaving NOW and then you and I are going to have one hell of a chat about this." His anger rolled off him in waves and even managed to permeate Cordelia's bravado act. She felt her nerve begin to crumble. For some reason, she could almost see Angelus popping through Angel's façade every now and then. His eyes were as dark as coal and she could sense him being seconds away from vamping. 'Oh God,' she thought to herself.  
  
They were almost at the exit. "Look Angel, I know this is going to sound lame, but it really isn't what it looks like."  
"Oh really?"  
"Yes! Do you honestly think I'd work in a place like this?!"  
"What was it? Some casting directors hang around here? Told you this'd be a real boost to your career?" She opened her mouth to protest but before she could do that, someone cut her off.  
  
"Hey buddy!" Cordelia looked up and groaned. Her boss, Leroy was stood, arms folded, blocking Angel's path.  
"Leroy, it's ok..." she began to say, but Leroy cut her off.  
"She's a good choice my man," he said addressing Angel, "but that's fifty bucks."  
Angel became very, very still. Cordelia became very, very nervous.  
"What?" he asked in a low, quiet voice.  
"Cordelia," the guy explained. "Fifty bucks. Another ten and there's a room you can use out back."  
Angel let go of her arm and with one look told her to stay exactly where she was and to say nothing. Then he turned to face Leroy full on. "Oh I'm sorry, you want money?"  
"Yeah!"  
"Well here you go then." Reaching into his trouser pocket, Angel brought his hand out again suddenly in a tight fist, slamming it so hard into Leroy's face that it sent the man flying almost half way across the bar and into the furniture. A few of the girls shouted in surprise but most of the clientele barely even noticed.  
  
"Keep the change," Angel muttered as he bustled a staggered Cordelia out of the bar.  
  
Once outside in the cool night air, Cordelia finally managed to squirm free of his vice-like grip.  
"Look, Angel - I know you're probably wigging right now out of some sort of medieval freak-out zone, but you have to hear me out."  
  
Angel stood back, arms folded across his chest. "I'm listening," he said quietly. She took a deep breath:  
  
"I have to go back."  
  
"And we're done with the listening." With that he took a hold of her arm and once again began steering her to the parking lot. Digging her high heels in the ground, she just about managed to stop them both in their tracks.  
  
"You seriously don't understand - I wasn't exactly doing what you thought I was in there." He spun to face her, anger still clearly etched on his face.  
  
"So just what exactly were you doing? Because from where I was standing, it looked like my under-aged teenage friend was prancing around in her under wear while drunk perverts felt her up - and DON'T try to tell me that this is none of my business cos I'm damned well making it my business!"  
  
Cordelia paused for a moment as she struggled to find suitable words to respond with. After opening and closing her mouth several times, finally she spoke. "Uh, Angel? If I were to...like, tell you the truth - do you promise not to get, well...mad?"  
  
Angel narrowed his eyes. "Cordelia?" he asked, suspicion and warning underlying his tone. "Just what exactly is going on here?"  
  
She smiled at him. He recognised it at once - one of those big, bright plastered smiles that she reserved stubborn but rich customers and for tricking her boss into giving her an unscheduled pay-rise.   
"Well," she began carefully taking a surreptitious step backwards, "do remember that client guy who came into the office with that little problem a couple of weeks ago?"  
  
Angel cast his mind back. "No."  
  
"Yeah well, that's maybe because I didn't tell you about him," she admitted in a rush. His sceptical gaze bore into her.   
  
"Cordelia. Never in all my time that I've known you, have I known you to turn away a paying client."  
She glanced down at the ground, digging her toe distractedly into the dirt.  
"Oooh...well see, I never said I turned him away."   
  
"Did he realise he was walking into a demon detective agency?" He, not so surreptitiously, closed the gap between them until she found herself leaning backwards to get away from that gaze. If she wasn't much mistaken, that was the kind of stare he usually reserved for the good old demons of old. "Did he?" he pressed again.  
  
"Uh-huh?" she squeaked.  
  
"Cordelia."  
  
"OK, OK! Just...don't go all vampy on me. Well, it goes like this..."  
  
She talked: Angel listened: and somewhere in between, he mulled over the various ways in which he was going to kill her when all this was over.  
  
***  
  
  
  
  
So that's it for now. I know it's really short but I guess I'm just sort of testing the waters, so to speak. More is coming though, though I doubt this is going to be a very long story. BTW, I know Cordy took a bit more crap in this story than she probably would have in the series, but there is a reason for this and (hopefully) it will become clear in the next part. I hope you enjoyed it :)   



	2. Chapter 2

Working Girl - Chapter 2  
Author: Polly  
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies - Joss and all that - please see part one for full version.  
  
A/N Thank-you so much for all the lovely reviews! They really do make my day :) I'm sorry about the loooong delay in posting. Inspiration left me. But hopefully, now it's back. Hoo well. On with the story. Enjoy! Oh - and I must warn you: there's a LOT of shifting around with times and places in this chapter. I've tried to signal them with stars (*) or with new paragraphs but you may have to follow it quite closly.   
  
PS - fixed a couple of formatting errors where some words had been missed out in the format I saved it in. It should read better and make sense now.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
"I'm not happy about this."  
"Angel - you agreed."  
"I was coerced. And to say it again - I'm not happy about this."  
"All right! Got the concept all ready. Let's just hope Leroy hasn't regained   
consciousness yet cos they'll never let you back in again."  
At this, Angel took a hold of her wrist and turned her till she was facing him, head on.   
"If I'm not there - you're not there. Absolutely no exceptions - got it?" She had the   
sense to give him a serious response. "Got it."   
Reluctantly, he let go of her wrist. "Good," he muttered, though it was obvious he   
was anything other than pleased.   
  
At the entrance to the club, he shot an arm across the doorway, suddenly barring her   
path. "Game plan - one more time."  
She supressed the groan but couldn't help the roll of her eyes. They had been through   
it more times than she cared to remember. In fact, she was more prepped for this little   
bout of slaughter-ritual than she had been for the SATs. But, Angel was pissed. No,   
she amended - he was agitated and worried and nervous AND pissed. That meant,   
she danced to his tune tonight. Casting a furtive glance up at her 'employer-turned-  
self-appointed-guardian', Cordy grimaced at the expression, etched in stone. 'I am so   
dead,' she thought, miserably. As she obligingly ran through the details for the   
hundredth time, her mind found itself wandering, not so long ago, back to the FIRST   
time...  
  
*  
  
Still in the parking lot and still quietly seething, Angel had coaxed every last detail of   
the last two weeks out of her. It had begun as a very ordinary day at the office, she   
had related - till this guy walked in. Angel was downstairs, sleeping and Wesley was   
enthralled (else where) with 'Pictionary 2000' and good old, reliable Cordelia was   
ever busy manning the phones, filing the paper work and generally attending to her   
under-paid duites.   
"Hello?" He had entered cautiously. "Is this 'Angel Investigations?'"  
Cordeila had looked up sharply, from her computer. She could smell the Armani. Money: this guy had it - in filthy abundance. She had promptly produced 'The Smile'.   
  
"Absolutely! We pride ourselves on top-class and service. And how may we help you, Mr...?"  
  
"Gregor," he supplied, taking the hand that she offered him. "Well, I have a little problem with my business that I've been informed...Angel...has the resources to help me with?" He eyed her carefully. She knew the look. No one wanted to blurt out a load of knowledge about vampires and demons before they knew that you were also, playing in the same field. A couple of anecdotes about demon-slime, Armani and dry cleaning later, and Gregor and Cordelia had established a healthy, trusting rapour.   
  
Over a cup of coffee, he had explained it all. Four girls so far - all worked in his chain of clubs, all radient brunettes and all dismembered in the same, ritualistic method: all in all, your standard trade-mark calling card of your average Stylor demon.  
  
"Stylor demon?" She had been trying to sound knowledgeable but now she was clueless. Dismembered bodies, she'd seen plenty of - but she'd never HEARD of this creature. Gregor nodded. "One more attack and I'll get closed down - contravening health and safety regulations, or something like that."  
  
"That would be too bad," she agreed, nodding absently.   
  
"And so I thought: I need a professional. So here I am. Is, uh...Angel around?"  
  
"No!" she'd lied, quickly. "Out on a case. Why don't you browse this copy of our price-list brouchere and I'll go and get the case notes files?" She handed him the brouchere and smoothly moved to the desk to collect what she needed. She came back with a hard, leather (at least that's what she hoped it was) bound volume of demonology and a note pad. He glanced up.   
  
"These prices look very reasonable."  
  
"They do?!" Angel hadn't even APPROVED them - yet. But, Cordy had thought it high time that they start thinking about raising their standards a little. "Yes," she recovered, "Well that is of course liable to extra charges on a case by case scenario. Here at Angel Investigations, we pride ourselves on being totally upfront about our fees. No sir! No hidden costs where we're concerned - just a flat out, lump sum fee."   
  
"As I said - that's acceptable. Would you take a cheque?" She smiled sweetly at him.  
  
"I'm afraid, for cases such as this, we can only accept cash and in this circumstance," she jotted down a few calculations on the note pad. "That'll be 5000 - plus tax." He nodded.  
  
"Shouldn't be a problem. Shall we get down to business?"  
  
For the next hour, Cordelia could barely keep her elation in check.  
  
The demon had been easy to look up in the text. It appeared human at first sight - only changing to its true (totally gross) demon-yucky state when it moved in for its kill. It would lure or force it's victim to a quiet, secluded spot and then proceed to remove the arms and legs, before opening the chest to remove the vital organs. Which it then would lay carefully over what was left of the carcass. Somewhere inbetween all that, the victim tended to die. No mention of exactly how to kill it though - that was helpful! Still, it hadn't stopped Cordy. With 5000 plus dollars burning a hole in her tasteful (but not nearly expensive enough) jacket, she talked like there was nothing she couldn't handle. Gregor had been putty in her hands.   
  
During the recount, Angel had been staring at her - hard. Now, he finally interrupted. "So," His voice was dangerously low, "Gregor left and you did WHAT exactly?"   
Here's where the fun begins, she thought. "Well, I went about doing some SERIOUS research - you know: how to kill the thing and everything."  
  
"And how DO you kill it, Cordelia?"  
  
Suddenly she was back in the 6th grade being picked up on a homework assignment she hadn't done. She licked her, suddenly dry, lips. "Well, ah...first, you spray it with this funny, REALLY stinky mixture that I made from one of your demon book things."  
  
"Which mixture, EXACTLY?" Boy, he was really going all out on this pop quiz.  
  
"Y'know! The one with all the herbs, and spices and Yak's milk? God...I think my grandmother used to make SOUP out of that stuff! That must be why it tasted...urgh!" Her face distorted in disgust for a moment. "Anyway," she continued, shaking off the memory, "That stinky stuff makes it go all spaced out and while that's happening, I chop it up into little, tiny, harmless pieces. The End - see?" She looked up at him, hopefully. Not impressed - WAY not impressed. This was going to be a very long night, one way or another.   
  
Five seconds later, Angel exploded.   
  
"THAT'S YOUR PLAN?!!" No amount of 'shushing' was going to shut him up, but Cordy kept trying, regardless. "You have no IDEA what you're dealing with. I can't believe you'd even THINK about doing something as crazy and as STUPID as this! We are going home RIGHT now! I'm...you're..." At the utterly speechless moment of his tirade, Cordeila decided to get a word in edgeways.  
  
"Angel! THINK about this, please! I gave this guy my word! He's a client!"  
  
"Money?! You think all this is justified by MONEY? You can give him a refund - you're not going through with this. And another thing - have you seen the size of your average Stylor demon? You think you can dismember him all by yourself! Did you even think about what might have happened if something went wrong?"  
  
"Yes! I was supposed to have back-up."  
  
"Back-up? Who?" She sighed, irritably.  
  
"Some guy. Word was that he was into all this slaying stuff for a price, you know? One of our old clients put me on to him and he was SUPPOSED to show tonight. God! That little creep! I can't believe he let me down."  
  
"Who was he?"  
  
She shrugged. "Some guy called Willie - I don't know him."  
  
Willie. Suddenly the mysterious meeting tonight didn't seem so mysterious. Maybe one day, he might actually get around to thanking him.  
  
Cordelia noticed the hesitation and pushed ahead with her quickly formulated Plan B. "And what about his next victim then, huh? What about her? We have a chance to stop him tonight. TELL me that doesn't bug you?"   
  
His face darkened. Despite his concern for Cordelia, she did have a point. Someone was still in need of his help tonight - someone would die if he didn't do SOMETHING. For a moment, he said and did nothing. A freight train rumbled by in the far distance, sounds of arguing issued from the bar: other than that, there was silence. Cordy held her breath, not wanting to disturb it: what was she going to do if he didn't go for this?  
Finally, he seemed to snap back out of his thoughts. "Alright. I'll go in - you wait in the car."  
  
She took a deep breath. "I understand why you want me to be safe, and I appreciate it, really, but if I'm not in there, this won't work." She carried on hastily as she saw him trying to argue. "No, Angel - listen! It will ONLY reveal itself when it makes its move - not before. Until then, it's going to look human. I can draw it out then you can be there to kill it. I PROMISE I'll be OK. Angel - I'm not looking to get hurt either, but this is the only way. It could be Mandy that it goes for next. She's cool, Angel: I like her and she doesn't deserve to die like that. I'm the ONLY one of those girls that has any idea what she's getting herself in for in there."  
  
Her words hung heavy in the air and inwardly, she released a shaky breath. She had won this round: she knew it. Barely, imperceptively, he nodded once. Every dead cell in his body screamed its protest.  
  
"You do what I say, when I say." She quickly and enthusiasticlly agreed with him. "When you get back in there, I'll never be more than a few feet behind you. I'll be able to blend in to the darkness. Keep your eyes open for it - stay alert. Don't trust ANY of the men in there. When you're alone with him, make sure the door's unlocked and that I can get in. Spray the mixture directly in his eyes - I'll be right there. When I start attacking it, I want you to go straight out of the club and wait for me here. It could still get nasty. Understand?"  
  
Again, she nodded. "Uh huh. Got it."  
  
After making her repeat the plan at least twice, he finally turned to go back in.   
  
"And one more thing." She stopped and turned. "No more dancing."  
  
  
*  
  
After obliging him one more time, he seemed satisfied. Removing his arm from her path, he pushed open the door and held it while she walked in, quickly following behind her.   
  
Leroy was gone - probably been moved to the couch in his office. She quickly slipped Angel's coat off and let it slide to the floor. Angel scowled at her costume again but said nothing, merging into the background and casting scouring gazes round the occupants of the room. He couldn't smell any demons nearby. Maybe this one didn't emit a detectable odour? The same shabby men were hunched over their drinks or slumped at the bar. He hovered near Cordelia as she went about her duties as though nothing had happened. Despite his anger with her, he couldn't help but admire her spirit and her bravery.   
  
As she moved around the men, her mind was swimming. Mentally, she was running down a suspect list - was it the beer-belly guy? Or the shady stubble guy? She moved past each of them slowly, trying to look as seductive and as tempting as she could. She KNEW she was the type of girl this thing went for, now she just had to let him know she was there. She began to wonder who the regulars at the bar were. According to Gregor, the Stylor would make its next kill on THIS night, so did that mean she could discount the guys that she'd spotted around the joint for the last two weeks? And just who exactly WERE the ones from the last two weeks? The lighting was always so bad that she had trouble seeing them all clearly. Not that she was ever going to admit that to Angel. Just one more flaw in her plan.   
  
Mandy, she thought. She would know! No one got by here without her noticing. Craning her neck over the tops of heads, Cordelia scanned the crowd for her friend. Several girls were loitering around but no Mandy. She moved to the other side of the bar and searched the rest of the room. Still nothing and she began to get a little frantic. Mandy was also, just the kind of girl this thing would go for - tall, leggy and brunette. Her heart began to quicken. Maybe she should risk talking to Angel? He might have spotted her.  
  
Just as she was about to blow her element of surprise and openly call for Angel, she spotted her friend. Mandy was leaning over a table, talking to a man who sat back in the shadows. She was smiling and Cordy could hear her 'coy' laugh. She knew the one - it was what she used when she was coaxing or responding to the advances of, a client. Scooting closer for a better look, Cordy strained to see him better. All at once, the man leant forwards at the table. He was new, she was sure of that. Dressed in a silver-grey business suit, she could see why Mandy had gone for him: he looked like money - a stockbroker out for a wild night on the town. She'd probably follow him anywhere. Cordy couldn't put her finger on it, but he didn't right. It was more instinct than anything she could prove.  
  
At that moment, he got up. She could see him whispering to Mandy, who nodded back, seductively. In a panic, Cordy saw where she was leading him: the private rooms upstairs. They would be quite alone and secluded there. She began to run but as she did so, she felt something grab her arm and spin her round. With a small yelp she raised her free fist to strike out at her restrainer, but with a "Shush - it's me!", she relaxed as Angel released her arm.  
  
"Angel I have to get to her! She has no idea and I KNOW it's him - I do!"  
  
"I know - it's okay. I'll take him - you get her out of here: take her to the car. Don't come back in - I'll be alright. I'm going to force him to show himself whether I'm his damned taste or not!"  
  
She barely nodded in understanding before she rushed off through the crowd. They were gone from the table already but, as she suspected, Mandy was leading him up to the private rooms via the side staircase. Shoving patrons out of the way as she passed, Cordelia raced towards them. She practically crashed straight in to them as they were making their way up the stairs and all three of them went down with a startled yelp. Cordy recoverd quickly, however. She could hear Angel right behind her.  
  
"Cordelia? What the Hell is going...?" Mandy started to say, but Cordelia never let her finish. Without saying a word, she grabbed Mandy by the hand and hauled her out of the way, never slowing as she raced them both through the back door of the building.   
  
Only once they were in the cool, night air and leaning heavily against the brickwork of the alleyway, did they rest. Mandy spun around to face her.  
"Cordelia! That was a CLIENT! A very well paying client. You've cost me a fortune tonight!"  
  
Cordy smiled, sheepishly. "Maybe, but I think I might have saved you something as well." The look Mandy gave her said it all: she was utterly insane.  
  
  
Angel was thankful that no one was actually IN the staffroom as he hurled the suited-guy through the closed door. "Wh...what the hell is going on here?" the man stammered, cowering in the corner. "Are...are you hired by my wife?"  
  
The look Angel shot him oozed anger and contempt. "There's no need to pretend for me," he spat back. "I know what you are. Are you going to show yourself or do we fight like this?"  
  
"Fight? I swear, fella, I don't want to fight you!"  
  
"No?! Innocent girls more your style, is it?" Angel demanded, darkly. He pulled a sword out from the inside of his coat. At the sight of it, the suited guy almost fainted.   
  
"Jesus! I SWEAR - I haven't fought anyone! Men OR women! You have to believe me, man PLEASE!"   
  
Angel spoke to him as calmly as he could. "I'll kill you either way, but you know you'll have more of a chance of winning if you change. It's up to you?"  
  
"Change?" the man repeated. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about. Change into WHAT? Is it my clothes or something?"  
  
Angel began to frown. Why didn't he just kill it now, he wondered. He never usually gave demons options when fighting them. Was it that his conscience couldn't allow him to kill something in such obviously human form? Or was it...?  
  
He felt his face morph. The man below him screamed but said nothing. Angel could smell something in the air. He inhaled, deeply. Blood. He may not be able to smell this Stylor demon, but he sure as hell could smell blood - human blood and this guy was covered in it: was currently BLEEDING it from where he'd been thrown through the door.  
  
He knew for sure - it wasn't him, but then why were his instincts telling him that he'd been close to the danger? He needed to find Cordelia, fast. It was at that moment, that he heard the scream.  
  
  
*  
  
After a couple of minutes sweet-talking, Mandy had finally calmed down. Now the two of them sat on upturned wooden crates as Cordelia explained, as best she could, that they had to wait for Angel before they went back in. She just avoided mentioning WHY exactly.   
  
And they were both freezing.  
  
"God! What is taking him so long?" Cordy grumbled to herself. "Maybe we could just nip back in and get our coats?" She stopped suddenly as she heard a faint scuffling sound in the darkness, near Mandy. "Mandy? You OK?"  
  
"Yeah," came the quiet reply. Cordy shrugged it off.  
  
A few moments more and her teeth were chattering. "This is ridiculous!", she muttered. "I'm sure he never meant for me to turn into an icicle out here. I could just be in and out, really quick - he'd never even notice."  
  
Her mind made up, she stood and moved cautiously towards the door, peering in through the small, cracked glass window. "Mandy - stay here: I'm just going to pop back in and grab our coats. I won't be a second."  
  
"Cordelia." It was Mandy's voice: quiet and calm. "Come away from the door: I think I hear something." Immediately, Cordelia's thoughts turned to the mysterious scraping noise that she had dismissed, just a few moments ago.  
  
"What?" she whispered, fumbling to find her spray-mixture tucked down her bodice. She cast a glance back at Mandy. She was standing now, her features obscured and in the shadows, she seemed to be that much taller than Cordelia remembered.  
  
"Just come - please. Over here - I think we'll be safe further back. Quickly!" she urged, though her voice never seemd to lose it's air of neutrality.  
Mandy began walking further backwards, deeper into the allyway - into the darkness. Not wanting to face whatever was behind that door unless she absolutely had to, Cordelia hurriedly followed Mandy deeper into the black.  
  
"OK," she whispered, "I think I can see some bars lying on the ground here. If we grab a couple of them, we can use them as weapons - kind of. There's some down there by the wall." She knelt down to feel for the darkened shapes. Her hand came across a cool, long iron shape. It felt like part of a railing from a fence. "I think I've found one. Do you want me to grab you one, too?"  
  
She turned her head to try to see Mandy but it was impossible in the blanket of the night. "Man...?" Suddenly, her words were silenced by the vice-like grip that something had around her throat. She was hauled into the air, as if she weighed no more than a baby, flung around and slammed into the wall. As she impacted with the brickwork, she felt a sharp pain across her back and sides and the resounding 'crack' sounded dull to her ears. She slid down to the ground with a thump, gasping for the air that had been knocked out of her. She tried to scream but even if she could have scavenged any oxygen, her ribs were screaming with pain every time she moved.  
  
Mandy was gone, and where she had been, stood what she could only guess, was the Stylor demon - sharp, viscious claws drawing her attention away from its stark white, skull-like elongated head. Black eyes - more like holes into space, bore into her. If she wasn't in so much pain and in such a tricky predicament, Cordelia would have felt incredibily stupid for having befriended the one thing she'd set out to kill in the first place.  
  
Images of the crime scene photos Gregor had supplied her with, flashed through her mind. It came at her again, saying nothing. As it reached down towards her, she shot out a leg and managed to plant a hard kick to what she assumed was its stomach. The heels of her shoes were sharply spiked and she was pleased to see it recoil in pain.  
  
In the few seconds that she had, Cordelia desperately reached for her spray canister. As soon as her fingers found it, she struggled to pry the cap off, but it proved more difficult than she has imagined. Her fingers were trembling and sweaty and kept slipping, never getting the grip that they needed.  
  
The creature had recovered now and with howl of rage, grabbed a hold of her feet and started pulling. Again, she fought to scream, but she was having difficulty getting her breathing under control. She shot out one hand to try to slow her down, grabbing on to any grooves in the hard, stone ground that she could find. With her other hand, she still attempted to open the can.  
  
As the creature drew her further towards it, she was dimly aware of the sound of tearing. The fabric of her suit was tearing, she realised. Warmth flooded her stomach and sides and in a panic, she wondered whether the disembowlment had already begun. She kicked and kicked at the thing that was holding her but this time, it had little effect.   
  
It had her now. Flipping her over, onto her back, it leaned in close to her. A small part of her brain, registered that it had not yet attacked her. She had been dragged over broken shards of glass - she could still see a fragment sticking out of her side. But at least her organs were still where they were meant to be. Her hand was working the lid of the can, almost independently of her brain now and so she barely realised what the tiny 'pop' sound signalled. She felt as though her movements were clumsy and sluggish, but in reality, she had probably never moved as quickly. Her hand was around the nozzel of the can in a flash and pointed it directly in its eyes. It didn't really realise what was happening until she emptied its entire contents into the black holes in its face.   
  
As if an invisible force had struck it, the Stylor demon flew backwards and away from her. She managed to stumble backwards, backing up against the wall. Her fingers once more came across the cool metal of the railing and she grasped it firmly in both hands.  
  
The mixture was working. The creature could barely even tell where she was, but that didn't stop it from thrashing out, blindly. And sometimes, Cordelia realised, it was getting a little too close for comfort. Frantically, she laid blow after blow across any part of the demon that she could reach and had never been so relieved when she felt her breathing begin to ease. Despite the burning pain in her ribs, she opened her mouth and screamed as only a Hollywood actress could.  
  
  
*  
  
Once he had arrived, Angel had made short order of the demon. All the while he fought and dismembered, his thoughts had been soley focused on the broken and bleeding girl, lying against the wall, as far out of the way as she could manage.  
  
When the demon was disposed of, he quickly threw down his sword and carefully knelt by the injured girl.  
  
"Hey," he said, softly, cradling her upper body in his arms. "It's over now."  
  
"Mandy..." she began to say, but he gently quietened her.  
  
"It's okay. I know. We'll talk about it later. You're hurt."  
  
She managed a grim chuckle. "Tell me about it!" She saw the pain in his eyes and instantly regretted her quip. "Nah! I'm fine really. Just a scrape...and a maybe a little bump. Give me a minute and I could run circles round you." He managed a small smile.  
  
"Let's get you up. I'm taking you to hospital. Any objections?"  
  
"Of course, that wouldn't be a question, would it?" she asked, knowingly.  
He shook his head, firmly. She sighed.   
  
"Fine. But I'm NOT wearing one of those open-back gowns. I swear, I'm more decent in THIS thing! Even WITH the newly added holes!"  
  
"I'll see what we can arrange," he assured her, "BUT, you will do whatever the doctors think is best - or else." He gently picked her up in his arms and she grimaced slightly at the pressure to her sides and ribs.  
  
As they reached the car, he carefully placed her in the front seat, not bothering with the seat belt. He climbed in and started the engine.  
"Angel?" she asked, quietly. He turned to face her. "Are we cool now?"  
His expression darkened and he quickly turned back and pulled the car away. "Try not to talk, Cordelia. We'll do our talking later - when you're home."  
  
She nodded, wordlessly and closed her eyes, relaxing into the saftey that his prescence, once more, afforded her.  
  
***  
  
Epilogue on its way! Promise. Please review? Pretty please? Love you all! 


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Working Girl - Epilogue  
Author: Polly  
Standard disclaimer applies - please don't sue...um, I have no witty quip for that - just a heartfelt plea  
Summary: Angel and Cordy...*chat*  
  
Notes: Many thanks to Ellen for picking up all my dreadful typos and spelling errors and for coaxing me into finishing this little offering! Otherwise, I doubt I would have got myself in gear and finished this.  
  
Thank-you for the lovely reviews - I'm sorry I've been so slow with this but I'm sure we all know how inspiration ebbs and flows!  
  
Lastly, feedback so wonderfully appreciated (you lovely, kind people)  
  
Enjoy!  
  
  
The door closed, quietly but Cordelia didn't look up. The comforting hum of the electricity and the warmth of Angel's apartment were lulling her into a sleep. Of course, the drugs she'd been doped up on at the hospital were also playing their part.   
  
Carefully, fearful of waking her in case she had finally drifted off to sleep, Angel padded across the living room, past the form lying snugly on the couch, and over to the kitchen. As he opened the fridge door, she slid one eye open a crack. It wasn't lost on him. "Sorry", he whispered, "I didn't mean to wake you."  
  
"You didn't," she replied, lazily. His expression altered.  
  
"Why not?" he demanded. "The doctor said you needed your rest."  
  
Groggily, she propped herself up on one elbow, craning her neck round to look at him. Apparently exasperation was an excellent stimulant for tearing oneself away from slumber. "It's not like I'm not trying, you know! If you'd let me go back to my own place, I have a very attentive ghost that would see to my every whim. But *no* - I have to stay here with paranoid, impossible vampire!"  
  
At that, he marched over and promptly sat himself opposite her on the coffee table. "The doctor made it quite clear that you weren't to be left alone..." He raised a hand to forestall her predictable protest before it could leave her lips. "And as protective as Dennis might be, he's no help to you if he needs to phone for an ambulance, is he?"  
  
Not allowing her a chance to answer (Cordelia frequently forgot what a 'rhetorical question' *was*), he gently pushed her back down until she was once again, lying on the sofa-bed. "You lie still now and I'll fix you some tea."  
She raised a sceptical eyebrow.  
"It'll help you relax, I promise. Just close your eyes and try to think of...sheep or something."  
  
"Sheep?"  
  
"Whatever it is that you people think about when you want to get to sleep, then," he amended.  
  
She sighed once at his 'mother henning' but rolled over onto her less bruised side, and muttered, "Sixteenth century demon lore, it is then - check."  
  
A half smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when he heard this - she had never been one for the demonology research.   
  
As he moved away to boil the kettle, an idea began to form...  
By the time he had come back to the inert girl on the couch, she was already miles away in a world of her own. Setting the tea down on the coffee table, he affectionately smoothed the hair on her head and kneeling down, laid a light kiss on her forehead.   
  
***  
  
She slept in late the next morning. By the time she gingerly swung her legs out of bed, it was well past midday. She briefly wondered why there was no high noon sun streaming in through the windows. Then she remembered. Something about a man-handling vampiric employer and a case of being heavily drugged. Somehow though, she had learned all the different times of the day without the benefit of daylight.   
  
She took a few steps forward, testing her weight on her, previously wobbly legs. Everything seemed fine now - just incredible bursts of pain along her sides if she breathed the wrong way. 'Great', she thought glumly, 'I have a pain in my side the size of Manhattan, an audition for a swim-suit company who, unless their new look has changed to 'road kill', are NEVER going to hire me and I'm stuck in a place with no mirror and really, really bad bed hair. All I need now is a sudden fit of sneezing - topped off by a mind-numbing vision, of course!'  
  
"Good morning."  
  
Snapping out of her mental gripe, Cordy spun around at the sound. She instantly regretted it of course, but instincts were instincts.   
  
"Angel!" she protested, lightly holding her sides with her hands. His eyebrows shot up in concern.   
  
"You alright? Come sit down over here." He got up and, against her protests and hands flapping him away, led her carefully over to the kitchen table.  
  
"I'm fine, already!" she insisted, irritably for the tenth time. He ran a final hand over her forehead before he relented his unwarranted examination and sat back down, across the wooden table from her.  
  
"Would you like some breakfast?"  
  
She mulled over the prospect in her mind. She *was* rather hungry but there was a small part of her stomach that was still doing cartwheels from last night. She didn't think it was ready for ingesting anything just yet. Knowing the answer wouldn't please her self-appointed 'Vampire of the Lamp', she nevertheless steeled herself and replied, "No thanks, I'm fine."  
  
It elicited the reaction she'd suspected and so she just tried very hard not to close her eyes throughout the barrage of protests, accusations and threats of a saline IV.   
  
When the worst of it had finally ebbed, she dared to look up. He was looking down (typical, he was always the exact opposite of whatever she did) but after only a moment's pause, he turned his gaze back on her.  
  
"Well then," he began, "if you're not going to eat, then it's time we had our little chat."  
  
"Our little...what?" she asked, beginning to feel a little nervous.  
  
"Believe it or not, Cordelia," (his voice was firmer now, and becoming colder with every syllable), "we still haven't discussed your actions from last night and, I might add, the last two weeks."  
  
Now she was definitely nervous. Nice, pampering Angel was gone. Nice, pampering, see to her every need and fluff up her pillows Angel had scarpered. Nice, pampering, fluff up her pillows and never do more than raise a disapproving eyebrow at her (though only followed quickly by an admission of heartfelt affection and copious mugs of cocoa) Angel, was gone.  
  
In his place, was demon-hunter Angel. Demon-hunter, throw people through walls and feel no remorse, Angel. Demon-hunter, wall-thrower, eyes as black as coal, thoroughly pissed off employer, Angel. Her chair shuffled back a couple of inches. "Ya know...maybe just a teensy bite of breakfast after all?"  
  
His expression gave her the answer and she let the sentence trail off into nothingness (wishing like hell that that was where she could trail off to right about now). "Now then. Let's begin with lying to me."  
  
Well now, she thought - that was an easy one to start with. "Well, technically Angel, since you never knew about the job and I never directly told the client that you would be working on the case, I never actually *lied* to you, per se."  
  
"You didn't?" came the calm reply.  
She thought for a moment, "No."  
  
He paused a beat, and then began reciting from memory. "Oh, I can't stay late tonight, Angel. I've got this GREAT new job from this really hot casting agent. It's a really good deal...well, you know - you guys'll probably never get to see it - it's more an 'indie' thing. Lift home? Nah, I'm cool for a lift home - safest place in the neighbourhood."  
  
By the time he finished, her ears were burning, face flushed. "Oh sure," she muttered, "but *can* he remember my birthday?!"  
  
"Cordelia!"  
  
"Sorr-ee! Okay - so maybe I forgot about that part. But it was all with good intentions!"  
  
"Ah yes, the two thousand..."  
  
"FIVE thousand..."  
  
He gave her the look and then smoothly carried on, once she had bowed her head under his gaze, "The five thousand dollars fee. What blindingly good intentions they were."  
  
"That's not fair," she protested weakly, though not without feeling. "Maybe it was the money at first, but I really WAS trying to help those girls in the end."  
  
Angel crossed his arms on the table in front of him and rested on them as he leaned forward. She sat, hunched into the back of her chair, looking worn, nervous and frail under her baggy blue tee-shirt and joggers but her eyes looked honest at this point.  
  
"Maybe that's true," he admitted, "and under different circumstances, I could really feel proud of you BUT - and this is leading on to point three here and you'd better pay attention - the danger to you was COMPLETELY unacceptable!"  
  
She took a deep breath: here's where the fun begins.  
  
"You are NO way capable of handling a case like this on your own. You were completely unprepared and ignorant of the most crucial facts regarding that species."  
  
She opened her mouth to protest but shut it again off a look. This wasn't going to be her morning in court, obviously.  
  
"It is MY job to take on these kinds of assignments and you had no business hiding this from me! What if anything had gone wrong? What am I saying? It DID go wrong! Look at yourself!! I've never been more appalled at anything you've ever done, Cordelia! I mean I thought I could trust you when it came down to it but now I'm just not sure.   
  
You're impulsive, fool-hardy, naive, money-driven - AND WHAT WAS THAT COSTUME?"  
  
She winced. By now, half the residents of LA must be casting curious glances down to the basement grill of their apartment building. The cops were probably already on their way.  
  
"I mean, I've seen show-girls in the West with more on than that! Did you strip for them? Wait! I don't want to know. Did any of those guys ever TOUCH you, cos if they did I will PERSONALLY..."  
  
"Angel! No! No one ever did, and no I never stripped...all the way - ya' know? I just danced a little and served drinks."  
  
That seemed to calm the raging waters somewhat.  
  
"Then you listen to me very VERY carefully, Cordelia Chase. You never, ever, EVER do this again. Not just going undercover in a strip joint to catch a disembowelling demon, but lying or otherwise deceiving me, not telling me about any imminent danger you may be facing and never handling ANYTHING dangerous on your own, again. I swear, I can make things EXTREMELY unpleasant for you if you disobey me on this one."  
  
It was only a little gulp. She felt quite proud of it.  
  
"Alright?" he asked, darkly.  
  
Like she had a choice. Mouth off to him? Disagree? Yeah - cos she really fancied another spell in hospital!  
  
"Yeah...sure."  
  
"Good."  
  
She took and released a shaky breath. No one got through a round of truly irate Angel without being a little the worse for wear.  
  
"So? Are we done now? Can I like, take a shower?" She began to push herself up from the table. Angel still sat in the large wooden chair, leaning back in it and regarding her in a manner that she wasn't sure she entirely liked.  
  
"Almost," he replied.  
  
"Almost what?"  
  
"We're almost done. There's just the little matter of what to do about all this."  
  
"DO about all this?!" she sputtered. "I thought we HAD done about all this! Just now! When my damned ears are still ringing!"  
  
"We talked it through," he agreed, "now I have to reach a conclusion." With a shocked thud, she sunk back down into her chair. This day sucked - it really, really sucked.  
  
Sitting up straighter, Angel delivered his verdict. "Since you obviously feel that tackling demons head on is something that you are now ready to handle, it's time you did the prep work for it."  
  
"What do you mean?" she asked, suspiciously.  
  
"I mean, that not knowing a Stylor demon shifted into woman's form, was a major gap in your research and if you think you can adopt this policy of charging into battle unprepared, then I guess it's my job to prepare you."  
  
"Angel - it really is ok! No more demon hunting for me, I promise!"  
  
He smiled thinly at her.  
  
"Down here, I have every volume of demonology that you will ever need to know. You will spend your days down here, reading through these texts, studying whichever demon species I tell you to. At the end of the day, I will quiz you on it: if I'm not happy, you learn it again. The evening will be your own but to save time and travelling inconvenience, it would be far better if you stayed here during the duration of your study. And I mean IN here, or up in the office. You leave this building and believe me, I'll know about it. Any problems?"  
  
For a good few moments, she could not speak. Her mind swam round in her head.  
  
"But...but...the books...there's so many of them! It would take me days!"  
  
"Try weeks. Who knows? Maybe even months." He stated, calmly.  
  
"Months?!" Cordelia was not so calm. "I can't stay inside for months! That's not fair, Angel! You can't do this - I'll die!"  
  
At once he had crossed the table and had her by the shoulders before she even saw him move. "You almost DID die, Cordelia! Do you understand that?! I almost lost you, God damn it and if I have to lock you in that damned bedroom for your entire stay, then you'd better believe I will! Now you take your shower, get dressed then meet me out here in an hour: you have volume one to start on and I had better not hear any arguments!"  
  
She sat there, numbly staring at him. Dimly, he realised he was still holding her and released her arms. Hesitantly, she glanced down at her lap, eyes beginning to tear up. She was *not* going to cry in front of him!  
  
Gently, she felt surprisingly warm fingers tilt her chin up, before an equally gentle kiss was planted on her forehead. Glancing up in surprise, she saw Angel staring back at her, anger gone. Embracing her lightly towards him, he whispered, "I love you, kiddo and I really don't want to have to hang you upside-down by thumbscrews, so don't make me, okay?"  
  
Wordlessly, she nodded and then quickly headed off for a shower.  
  
As he heard the steady spray of the water, Angel opened the phone book to order some extra supplies for Cordelia's visit: another bed for one and, perhaps most importantly for the girl, a full-length mirror. He supposed he could stand to (as she had so succinctly put it) NOT see himself, once in a while.  
  
When the orders were complete, he heard the water shut off.  
  
"Uh, Angel?"  
  
"Yes? Are you alright in there?"  
  
"Oh, I'm fine...I just had one last, teensy question?"  
  
"What?" he asked, carefully.  
  
"About the $5000...?"  
  
***  
  
That's it folks! 


End file.
